Air Stories, April 1936 — page 9: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

BRING ’EM BACK ALIVE! “© But couldn’t your governor pull some wires or something ? ’’ I asked— and immediately wished I hadn’t: ‘*My father! Why, he won’t even recognise me until I can appear in a Sam Browne. D’you know that when I go horne on leave I have to stay with my sis ee At that moment the door was thrust open to admit the corpulent form of ‘‘Woggy ”’ Wane propelled by the re- mainder of our flight. Captain Langrish brought up the rear. Poor old Skipper Langrish ! He had gone six months now without leave and was as thin and nervy and irritable as a drug addict. ‘*Come right inside, my dears! ”’ *“Woggy ”’ Wane invited in his famous imitation of his elderly Aunt Jane. ‘And pray do not forget to wipe your goloshes.’? The flight crowdedin. Lang- rish looked round the hut and his eyes fell on Charles Edward and me. ‘‘Here are two more. Now, where’s Moldred ? Sergeant. Benn, slip out and find me Mr. Moldred, please.”’ ‘‘What’s up, ‘Woggy’ ? ” above the buzz of conversation. ‘“Woggy ’’ shrugged his plump shoul- I asked ders. ‘‘ Flight conference, my _ dear. S’all I know. Hallo! Here comes Moldie !’’ Langrish cleared his throat. ‘‘ Now the point is this, you fellows,’’ he began, accepting a cigarette fromm someone with a mone-too-steady hand. ‘‘I’ve just come from a pow-wow at Squadron Office, and the C.O. has been talking to the flight-commanders about strategy in air scrapping. He insists that all you youngsters open fire at your opponent a great deal too soon—waste your ammu- nition before you’ve worked in close enough to put in an effective burst. Now I agree with him there. Some of you fellows think that just because you’ve got a full belt it doesn’t matter how many bursts you throw away. I’ve seen you myself. Directly a Hun comes within reasonable distance you _ start spraying your tracer at him just like— just like——’’ ‘‘ Just like a gardener squirting his hose on the lawn next door but one, my me ! dears,’’ amplified ‘‘ Woggy ’’ Wane. ‘‘ So silly |”? ‘‘ The point to remember,’’ Langrish went on, ignoring the interruption, ‘‘ is that a burst that doesn’t reach its mark is worse than useless ; it’s so much extra weight you have brought with you only to throw away—when a few minutes later those extra rounds might be the means of saving your life. Do you get me P Anyway, this is to be your maxim in future; don’t open fire at a Hun until you are right up close. When you have a seventy-five per cent. chance of hitting him, then let loose. Not before. Well, that’s all I was asked to tell you.’’ ‘* Here, but I say !’’ Moldred’s heavy red face was puckered with condemna- tion. ‘‘ Absolute tripe that seems to If we are supposed to go into a scrap bearing in mind that every round we use is going to cost the taxpayer a penny-farthing or whatever it is, how the devil does the C.O. think p77. Langrish tapped his finger-nail impa- tiently on the table. ‘‘ That’s not the C.0.’s point at all—anyone but a fool would know that,’’ he said testily. ‘* What he wants to do is to teach you fellows to make your attack crisp and effective instead of woolly and haphazard.”’ ‘“That seems sound politics to me, -dears,’’ ‘‘ Woggy ’’ Wane threw in paci- fically. ‘* To me, too,’’ I supported. ‘*There’s another point, too, sir,’’ said a quiet voice, and all eyes turned to the Hon. Charles Edward. ‘‘ When you open fire at a Hun too soon, it’s probably because you’re feeling a bit nervous and, well, probably the Hun comes to that same conclusion.’’ At the word ‘‘ nervous ’’ there was a snort of derision from Moldred. ‘* Glad you agree with me, Sergeant,’’ Langrish said, determined. to ignore Moldred’s existence. He moved towards the door as a sign that we could disperse. ‘FT THINK it’s all a damned farce,’’ Moldred said loudly as soon as the door closed. ‘‘Next thing is they’ll be 295 1IaOO SJ (SO)